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Authors: Kristal Shaff

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BOOK: Powers of the Six
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“Was this your first time?” Nolan asked.

“What?” Alec shook his head. “Sorry?”

“Was this the first time you’ve seen a Healing Shay at work?”

“Y-yes. Your face …”

“And my rib.” Nolan grinned.

“How much can they heal?” Taryn asked.

“Well, they can’t grow a limb,” Nolan said, “or your head. So keep that attached at the trials. They absorb the injury before healing.” Nolan frowned while examining the bloody hole in his tunic. “That’s why they won’t bring back the dead. They can do it, but they sacrifice themselves in the process.”

“Mr. Deverell,” General Trividar called as he approached. “You will not fake your way out of your challenge this time.” His smirk vanished when he spied Nolan. A vein protruded from his temple and his lips twitched. If the idiot hadn’t remembered Nolan’s injuries before, he did now. “You’re still a terrible shot, Nolan,” he said. “Isn’t there something you should be doing?”

Nolan grinned with his eyes and bowed. “Of course, General. I must observe the different trials and record the results, just as I was doing before you gave me an extra assignment.”

General Trividar’s face reddened, but it faded when he spied Taryn.

“This is Camden’s daughter,” Nolan said.

“Uncle Camden?” General Trividar’s mouth dropped open, just a little, and then he closed it again. “By Brim, you look just like your mother.”

“I hear that a lot.”

He bowed and lifted her hand, bringing it to his lips.

Taryn sucked in a small breath.

When he lifted his head, subtle sadness lingered in his eyes. “I take it back. I believe you are even more beautiful than your mother.”

Her eyes widened and her cheeks flushed.

Alec stared, open-mouthed. He didn’t dare move lest he punch the general in the face.

The general let go of her hand and straightened to his regular, overconfident stance. “The challenge starts in a moment. Go join the others.” His eyes flashed golden with his Shay of Speed, and then he was gone.

 

***

 

“One moment,” Captain Faal said.

Alec relaxed the bow but kept his arm tense. It was bad enough he had to wait the entire morning for his turn, let alone having to stop before he even began.

General Trividar sauntered down the field and halted in front of the Rol’dan soldier in charge of impaling Alec. Both men spoke with their faces lowered, like they had a secret. The conversation ended, and the general stepped off the field.

“All right,” Captain Faal said. “You may continue.”

Alec pulled on the bow and sighted the target. He still preferred his sword, but this bow thing wasn’t half bad. The arrow zipped through the air and landed in the middle of a yellow ring. It wasn’t the center, but still not an awful shot. Alec lowered the bow and stiffened to prepare for the return fire.

More swords had cut him than he could count, but an arrow would be a whole new kind of injury. A small part of him, the one not scared, was morbidly curious. The Rol’dan aimed and released. The arrow whizzed between his legs, ripping his breeches and exposing the uppermost portion of his inner thigh. If it had been a half an inch higher … Alec’s face heated. That shot was no accident. He grabbed another arrow, raised it and took aim, this time at the archer’s groin.

The soldier grabbed the arrow out of the air, glared with eyes glowing, and sent the same arrow back.

Fire shot through Alec’s foot as an arrow pinned it to the ground. Alec yanked it out, his foot erupting with white hot pain. He ground his teeth and sent the blood-coated arrow back at the crow-loving Rol’dan.

As soon as the arrow left his bow, Alec reached for another, not caring what happened. Out of the corner of his eye, Captain Faal stepped forward. Alec had shot three arrows. His trial was officially done. But before the captain said anything, Alec shot again.

“That is enough,” Captain Faal said.

He ignored him and let loose another failed shot. His leg erupted in fire with the returned arrow. It hurt badly, but Alec’s anger flared to the point where he didn’t care.

“I said enough. Stand down.”

The creak of a bowstring drew Alec’s attention. Captain Faal stood, an arrow drawn and pointed at Alec’s throat.

“Are you done, boy?” he asked. “If not, I can make you be done.”

Alec held the bow and arrow, shaking with anger, fatigue, and pain. He glared at the archer on the other side of the field and drew the bow.

“Reconsider, boy,” the captain warned.

Alec eyed the archer, and then the captain, his gaze falling to the point of the arrow aimed at him. He cursed and threw the bow. Once the battle lust left, the agony of his injuries came in a rush.

He collapsed, his leg failing. Blood soaked through his breeches where the shaft embedded in his thigh. It dripped down his leg, mingling with the blood from his foot.

General Trividar squatted over him and wrenched the arrow from Alec’s leg. Flesh tore as it pulled free. Alec growled and ripped a wad of grass from the earth. Crows! It hurt more coming out than going in!

With the arrow in his hand, the general examined Alec with pleased interest. He fiddled with it before tossing it to the side. “You must enjoy discomfort, Mr. Deverell.”

Alec’s rage returned. He tried to stand, but tremors of pain stabbed his leg.

Four Healers rushed over. Alec resisted, his vision clouding at the edges.

“Sit still,” one of the Rol’dan Healers scolded.

Alec very much wanted to grab one of those arrows and cram it up his—

His body jerked. Strange warmth started in his chest where the Rol’dan’s hands touched him. It spread like a hot broth on a winter’s day. All the pain oozed away, his body relaxing. He exhaled slowly, the sensation … intoxicating. He pushed down the lingering pleasure as bile rose in his throat. How could he
enjoy
it? Memories flooded his mind: his mother … the armory.
Rol’dan don’t heal. They only destroy.

It ended as abruptly as it started. The Healers stood, giving Alec resentful looks as they walked away. Alec staggered to his feet, regaining his balance. Even though the injuries were gone, weakness lingered.

Nolan grabbed his arm to steady him, his face set in a serious scowl. “What did you think you were doing?” he whispered

Alec yanked away from Nolan’s grasp and headed to camp. He didn’t want to talk about it. Still, Nolan followed.

“Alec!”

Alec stopped. “What business is it to you? I completed the trial, just like I was ordered to.”

“Yet you couldn’t do it like everyone else. You had to cause as much trouble as possible.”

“I was trying to teach that Rol’dan—”

“Teach him? Teach him what? That you make a good target? The only reason you aren’t dead is they aren’t allowed to kill you.”

“I was teaching him that he couldn’t get away with insulting me. Did you see what he did?” He motioned to the crotch of his torn pants.

“Yes. He was trying to make you mad. And it worked.”

“What was I supposed to do?”

“Nothing.”

“Do nothing? You mean, like you?”

“Yes, like me.”

Alec snorted. “I can’t sit there and let them walk all over me. I’m no coward.”

Nolan’s jaw tensed. “A coward … like me?”

Alec didn’t answer.

He couldn’t.

That was exactly what he’d implied, and they both knew it.

Finally, Nolan released a long sigh. “It’s not about being a coward. It’s about controlling yourself. You want to win, Alec. I get that. However, my brother is more stubborn than you. And more powerful.” He met his eyes. “The more you keep fighting Kael and trying to make him angry, the more you’ll end up just like him. And that is exactly what he wants: to push you over the edge. He wants a
reason
to kill you.” Nolan smiled weakly. “Be careful, all right?” Then he turned and walked away.

Nolan’s words slapped Alec across the face, sealing any arguments. He stared at Nolan’s retreating back, his blood heating.
The more I try to make him angry, the more I become like him?
Ridiculous!
How dare Nolan compare me to a murdering Rol’dan!

An iridescent flash caught Alec’s eye. He bent over and watched a mitimum beetle make its way through the grass. Two days ago, at the trial of Perception, people desperately searched for them. Now, this one marched along as if taunting him. With a sudden burst of rage and frustration, Alec ground the beetle into the earth.

 

 

Chapter Eight

 

ALEC SAT ON A LARGE ROCK and rummaged through his pack for a waterskin. Tipping it back, he took a long swig, letting the lukewarm water drain down his throat. It was cooler today, but the lack of wind and the brisk hike made him sweat. He wiped his forehead and glanced over in time to catch a group of girls staring and looking away. Unfortunately, gossip spread fast.

For some reason, everyone knew what had happened at the Trial of Accuracy. They whispered any time Alec walked by. He wondered if they thought him brave or insane. Alec hadn’t decided yet himself.

He thrust the waterskin into his bag and did another scan over the group, searching for Taryn. They hadn’t spoken since yesterday, and he had a suspicion she was avoiding him. He couldn’t blame her, really. He’d probably do the same.

A short, athletic soldier dressed in the red tunic and cape of the Strength Rol’dan strolled in front of the group, his hands casually behind his back. A thick, braided beard hung mid-way down his chest.

“I am Captain Ekon,” the Rol’dan said. “Before we begin, I want to share with you about the Shay of Strength, the focus of your next challenge.

“Some people believe the Shay of Strength only makes you stronger. Our Shay gives us strength. Yes, that is true. We can lift objects the common man would envy. However, it also transforms our bodies. Our bones harden like iron rods, and our skin strengthens like the toughest of leather. A foe might discover, too late, that it is most difficult to stab, slash, hit, bruise, or crush one such as us. We are the most powerful of all the Shay Rol’dan.”

Captain Ekon smiled arrogantly, as if expecting them to keel over from awe and admiration at his mere presence.

“I am sure you are all eager to find out if you have this powerful Shay. Perhaps among you, we might find a new champion.”

Another Rol’dan soldier appeared at the top of a steep path littered with small stones. He waved, giving a silent signal.

“Ah! I see it’s time to begin.” Captain Ekon scrutinized the group until his eyes rested on a tall fellow with blond hair. He motioned him forward and pointed the boy up the hill.

For several long minutes, the others waited for something to happen. Birds chirped. Feet shuffled. As the atmosphere began to relax, and conversations started again, a terrible yell rang out.

The group went silent, staring in horror at the path above. The yell choked into silence, followed by a chorus of laughter.

Alec repositioned himself on the rock and breathed, trying to tell himself he wasn’t at all nervous. Then he remembered the arrows. What terrible things lay just over the hill?

The process continued throughout the morning: a terrified scream, then silence, then laughter. Alec took to people-watching to distract himself. A few boys wrestled, more than likely trying to show off to the girls. Several others sat alone, shaking their legs with nervous tension. A skinny fellow toyed with a sling, knocking off small stones stacked on a larger one. Someone else stood with him, apparently getting a lesson.

Alec leaned forward and squinted. It wasn’t hard to recognize Nolan. His crumpled clothing, spectacles, and mop of messy brown hair could belong to no one else. Alec slid from where he’d been sitting and walked over.

“Try it like this,” the skinny boy said. He held an empty sling in his hand then flicked it over his head to release an imaginary stone. He handed the sling to Nolan.

Nolan stood in a silly squatting sort of stance. Alec snorted, trying not to laugh. Nolan glanced from the corner of his eyes, swung the sling once, and released his imaginary stone.

“Hey! Not bad,” the boy said. “Let’s try it for real this time.”

Nolan put a small rock in the sling, gave it a fling, and released. It struck the base of the large rock, missing the smaller ones entirely.

“At least it’s going in the right direction,” the boy said.

Nolan laughed. “Perhaps we should clear the area before I try again.”

“No, no … very good for a first try.” He bent to pick up another stone. “You should have seen my first go. I was standing in the field with my father. He said that I …” His voice trailed off as the Strength captain approached and motioned for him. The smile on his face disappeared. “Well then. I guess I’ll tell you the rest later. It’s a good story.”

“I’m sure it is, Rylan. I’ll be looking forward to it,” Nolan said, holding the sling out to him.

“You keep it. It’s a spare.” He smiled weakly. “Besides, you need the practice.”

BOOK: Powers of the Six
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